


I'll Keep Coming

by SenkoWakimarin



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Marathon Sex, Multiple Orgasms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-18
Updated: 2018-11-18
Packaged: 2019-08-25 16:45:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16664482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SenkoWakimarin/pseuds/SenkoWakimarin
Summary: Nate can be really single minded.





	I'll Keep Coming

**Author's Note:**

> Since my crackfic Punisher/Cablepool crossover fic decided to grow a plot and get complicated on me, I took a break to write some smut. Gotta get those words in for NaNo somehow.

“You know, I got to see Frank Castle all bloody and shirtless.”

“Oh?” 

Wade hates how utterly unimpressed Nate sounds, but that’s really par for the course, isn’t it? He grins anyway. “Well, maybe that was Shane on  _ The Walking Dead,  _ but either way he looked good and there were a bunch of dead bodies around. For sure it was on Netflix. Saw it on your laptop and  _ hello _ ,  _ bonertown _ .”

“Do you ever think, perhaps, telling me about how you pop a boner for men who aren’t me isn’t the best seduction tactic?”

“Lost me at ‘think’, there, sweetums.”

Nate looks up at him, eyes all bright with that sweet fondness that makes Wade feel like someone’s replaced his vital organs with fluttery insects. His hands are settled on Wade’s hips, which is as much of a welcome as Wade needs to know that Nate doesn’t mind having him straddling his lap.

Good. Wade was a fucking catch, and Nate was goddamn lucky to have him.

“You know what would be fun?” He asks, and Nate leans up and kisses him, all firm and sweet. Wade’s always enjoyed kissing, kissing Nate especially. Nate is very good about knowing just how much force to put into it, how much control Wade does or doesn’t want in the moment. He kisses Wade like it matters that it’s  _ Wade _ he’s kissing. 

Really, it’s been too long.

When he starts grinding against Nate, those hands tighten on his hips, and Nate, the bastard, laughs into his mouth. “Slow down,” he says, sitting back enough to make Wade pout. “We have all night. I want enjoy this.”

Groaning, throwing his head back and clutching at Nate’s shoulders so he can arch back without falling, Wade does his very best to communicate his displeasure. “I don’t  _ like _ slow, Nate, come  _ on _ .”

Wade loves it when Nate gets all forceful and handsy, and Nate rarely disappoints. Metal fingers bite against the back of his neck, pulling him back down into a kiss that’s rougher, more demanding; teeth toy with his lower lip, Nate’s tongue is filling his mouth, so all he can think about is Nate. Nate and Nate and Nate, it should worry him, how quickly he lets his world narrow down to just that one point, but it’s kind of difficult to worry when it feels so damn nice.

“Since when do you have a problem with the idea of being fucked all night?” 

“The problem isn’t the  _ idea _ , it’s you deciding to take a year to fucking get it started. While we’re  _ young _ Nate!” He grins, and Nate kisses him again before he can add,  _ well, while  _ one _ of us is. _

There is absolutely no need for Nate to carry Wade anywhere, pretty much in any situation that’s not life threatening or bloody, but god is it sexy when he decides to go all strong and forceful. He manages to get them out of the living room before he shoves Wade into the hallway wall and kisses him like it’s the only thing in the world that matters, and coming from Mutant Jesus, that’s really sort of flattering. They stay like that for a good while, Nate’s arms hooked under Wade’s legs, holding him up, his chest against Wade’s, holding him pinned the the wall as they kiss. Wade’s so hard already he could probably come just from this if Nate would let up and allow him a little room for some bump and grind.

Honestly, there really is something to be said for cheap sweatpants and the strength required to literally tear them off, Wade thinks some time later, thrown on the bed and treated to exactly that. Nate leaves his shirt alone for now, sinking to his knees beside the bed and swallowing Wade’s dick like it’s a treat he’s sorely missed. For sure, Wade has, even if he’d told himself he hadn’t -- that he’d been too goddamn mad at Nate to miss the wonderful shit he could do with that mouth. 

And while Wade sort of wants to yell at Nate -- something about come-stains and the cost of carpet shampoo -- when Nate just turns his head and spits Wade’s come onto the floor, there is  _ also _ something to say about the absolutely predatory way Nate climbs up onto the bed, looming over him and grinning, and the way that shuts even Wade up. Nate’s still wearing way too much clothing, and Wade knows better than to try tearing expensive-looking stonewash denim off his best buddy, so he settles for shoving a hand down the back of Nate’s pants and copping a feel of his extremely firm ass. 

“Off,” he growls, trying to push the jeans off those hips while Nate worries his neck, sucking bruises to flesh that’ll be as imperfectly healed as ever only a moment after he moves his lips. Nate doesn’t care, not about Wade trying to force his pants down through sheer will and not about the way the lesion-riddled skin sometimes breaks open, bleeding into his mouth. He just licks and sucks his way across Wade’s throat, until Wade’s about ready to scream in frustration, and then he presses their hips together, rough denim against messy, wet bare flesh, and  _ oh-- _

Wade can’t help laughing at the tight little frown on Nate’s face when he pulls away and kneels back between Wade’s spread legs, feeling the mess soaked into the front of his own jeans. That’s what he got, and he knew it, voicing no complaint as he unzipped and shoved his trousers down low. 

Not off, no; he just leaves them open and hitched low like he doesn’t have time to undress, and honestly, the way that thick dick bounces forward, rock hard and straining, maybe he  _ doesn’t _ have time.

“Raw me, baby,” Wade purrs, and laughs when the offer is met with furrowed brows and a bordering on frantic grab for the lube. They both know he could take it, but as much as Nate’s willing to manhandle him, he’s rarely willing to actually hurt him when they’re like this. Honestly, that’s kinda sweet, and when your on again, off again lover is one of the most ridiculously overpowered people you know, having them get all gentle with you really  _ does _ something, like, emotionally, Wade thinks. 

Nate knows all his sweet spots, all his kinks; Nate could twist him into a fucking pretzel and Wade would probably say thank you and get hard again while his bones were healing. Part of it is just Nate being so stupidly good at this, but part of it is just that it’s  _ Nate _ , and if that’s not a problem then Wade isn’t sure what to call it. 

He’s sort of forgotten how good the TO feels, stretching him open. The ridges and the texture of worn, warm metal pushing into him, the utterly incomparable sensation… it’s really one of the sexiest things Wade’s ever had done to him, and Nate just starts him off with two fingers from the start, slick and thick and just perfect. He moans and arches into the touch and Nate laughs in that breathless way he has, fucking Wade intently with his fingers, his other hand pressing against Wade’s belly, holding him to the bed so he can’t writhe away. It’s the perfect combination of sensation, of stretching and rough and something like force. 

When Wade comes again, Nate shakes his head and kisses him. “Impatient,” he says, still working Wade open, three fingered now. The hand holding him down is more necessary right now, frustrating because Wade wants more, wants to knock the bastard over and climb on him and just ride him deep into the dark of the night, but Nate won’t let him. Nate wants to take his time, so he’s going to. 

“Listen  _ buddy _ not everyone can fucking do the stupid tantric thing, some of us  _ like _ coming.”

“Impatient,” Nate enunciates, spreading his fingers inside of Wade just to make him shout. Honestly, thank god his neighbors were used to random loud bullshit from Wade’s apartment, because they were definitely getting a show tonight. 

And Nate might tease about Wade coming at the drop of a hat (proverbially; Wade hasn’t yet  _ actually _ come from anyone dropping any outwear), Wade knows he actually likes it. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t keep teasing Wade; he’d do this hard and fast and just take what he wanted. 

The thought of the times they  _ have _ done it that way, where Nate’s pinned him down and just used him, makes Wade arch into the mattress, straining against the hand pushing him down, dying for the main event. Nate wouldn’t be torturing him like this if he didn’t have some kind of kink of his own about watching Wade nut all over everything, and frankly, Wade’s just about had enough of the build up.

“Shut up,” he says, repeating it like a mantra as he tries to work himself against those fingers. “Shut up, shut up, shut up, shutupshutupshutupshutup--”

“I’m not saying anything, Wade,” Nate chuckles, curling his fingers against Wade’s prostate, smirking when Wade jackknifes against the sheets.

“Shut up and fucking  _ fuck _ me already you glorious bastard!” 

The words leave him in a snarl and his eyes are fiery on Nate when he retracts his hand, wiping his fingers on the sheets. He shoves Wade’s legs up, pressing his knees up by his shoulders in a way that makes Wade thank every god he can think of for giving him just the bendiest body, and then he’s there, cock pressing against Wade’s ass.

It’s so good, so,  _ so _ good, Wade’s just about singing Nate’s praises, and when he comes again,  _ completely  _ undone by this feeling he’s missed  _ so bad _ , Nate kisses him again. 

“Next time, I’m gonna put a cock ring on you,” he promises, moving so slow and so steady that it’s almost more a torture than a treat. “I’ll fuck you for hours and you’ll just have to take it. No release, no relief until I  _ let _ you.”

“Oh god, oh, oh don’t make promises you won’t keep, ohhh, Nate, fuck, would you move like you actually wanna be doing this  _ please _ like you mean it,  _ fuck _ .”

Nate laughs, kissing at his throat. He’s pretty nubile for a guy of his size, not to mention his age, and he knows Wade loves being dominated. He doesn’t alter his pace at all, but he  _ does _ wrap his fingers around Wade’s cock and start stroking, firm and quick. “Tonight, though,” he growls, and the sound of that voice is almost enough on its own to pull another orgasm out of Wade, “Tonight I want to see how many times you’ll come for me. I’m gonna fuck you until there’s nothing left. Until you can’t anymore. How’s that sound, Wade?”

What Wade wants is to repeat that thing about ‘promises you won’t keep’; he wants to be catty and sassy and at least pretend that he’s not so incredibly turned on by this promise/threat Nate’s proposing. What he does instead of any of that is come into Nate’s fist, moaning openly as his eyes roll back, and then immediately start to get hard again at the sensation of Nate still fucking him through it. 

The thing about Nate is, when he wants something, he’s pretty single-minded about getting it. Right now, he wants to fuck Wade into a goddamn puddle, and that’s what he’ll do. Wade feels himself going boneless around the half-hour mark, while Nate’s reapplying lube and making sure he’s comfortable for the duration. He loses track of how many times he comes because there’s no point in trying not to. Nate wants him to make a mess and that’s certainly something he’s willing to accommodate. 

And while Nate has to take semi-regular breaks because he knows if he lets himself come it’ll blow the whole thing (haha), he never stops touching Wade. Wade’s been through all kinds of torture, and this is  _ definitely  _ some kind of torture, but as far as that goes, he’ll take it. He loses all sense of time like this, all sense of anything but desire. He’s over stimulated and wants more and Nate, Nate just keeps giving. Nate strokes him and sucks him and fucks him; the room smells like sweat and warm metal and sex and it’s  _ awesome _ . 

It goes on for hours, until Wade is sobbing, face down on the bed and hugging a pillow to his chest while Nate sinks into him one more time. He feels sloppy and strung out and high in a way that has nothing to do with drugs. Nate is pressed flush against him, because Nate doesn’t care about how gross his skin is or the nasty way it rubs apart with the friction of their movements; Wade is gasping with every thrust, Nate’s dick punching his prostate up somewhere into his chest with every jerk of his hips, and Nate’s voice is a grounding rumble in his ear, sweet and steady.

“I’m close now, Wade, so I want you to do it one more time for me, okay? One more.”

Panting, drooling into the pillow, Wade shakes his head. “Can’t. Fuck, I’m out, Nate, I’m, I can’t. Pretty sure you broke me. Bastard.”

Nate makes this sweet sound, something comforting and gentle, and trails his hand over Wade’s arm, just gentle and nice. It’s not even sexual, that touch, not really, but it’s  _ good _ . “I think you can. Just one more. C’mon. Please, sweetheart, for me.”

God help him, he does; he jerks against the mattress and the  _ feeling _ is like an orgasm but honestly he doesn’t even know if there’s anything left in him to shoot. He finds himself laughing in this ugly, broken sort of way at the idea of a dry orgasm, and then Nate’s filling him up, buried in him so far it feels think he’s trying to merge them together. 

One of the things that keeps Nate separate from the other people willing to put up with Wade long enough to fuck him is that he’s also prepared for the aftermath. Wade likes cuddles and just about  _ dies _ for aftercare, and Nate’s always game to bundle him up and hold him while he comes down from the high, to clean him up all gentle and nice, and he only leaves the bed long enough to get him some water and something small to eat, even when Wade really just wants to nap the rest of the night and maybe the next day away. 

“You owe me new pants,” Wade finally says, curled up against Nate’s chest. “They were old and super comfy and I want nice ones to replace them, not like Walmart ‘feels soft at first then turns all pilly and gross the first time you wash it’ shit, you got that?”

Chuckling, Nate kisses the crown of his head. “I’ll consider it if you’ll consider not using my laptop to look up porn.”

“Not  _ porn _ , I was using a legitimate web service to watch a very sexy man kill people who may or may not have been dead prior to his use of high caliber weaponry on their brains.”

“You jerked off while using my laptop and I’d like you to stop doing that.”

Wade laughs, tilting his head up so Nate has no choice (except ignoring him, which would also be valid but he rarely elects to do) but to kiss him. “I’ll do what I can, honey.”

“That’s all I ask.”

Which is a lie -- Nate asks a lot of Wade, but most of it’s stuff that has Wade’s perceived best interest at heart -- but Wade can forgive Nate a few little lies. His forgiven him for worse, and after a fuck like that, it seems ridiculous to pick another fight.


End file.
